Chapter 29
The road to Neo Davon had been less populated than Ciel’nn had thought. He barely had seen anyone since the morning, but the young Dunmer didn’t mind. He was gathering plants for his alchemy study and hadn’t planned to go far as New Davon. It was a new place to visit, but he didn’t have time for it.
He had only read about the Red Mountain eruption and the destruction it had caused on Vvardenfell. The ashes had spread on the main land, too.
A scream broke Ciel’nn’s chain of thoughts, he looked around for the source of the scream. As he hurried along the road, he witnessed a fight between several road bandits and Indoril guards. He also saw a Dunmer girl not so far away from the fight. House Indoril,or was it just The New Temple now? What are they doing here? Ciel’nn decided to watch the fight for a short time before he’d continue on his way.
Markath wasn’t far away now. Ciel’nn couldn’t remember when the last time he visited there. Could be ages ago. In truth, he didn’t care. This whole traveling for a priest, who would help him - had started to feel pointless. What if no one would be able to help him? What if they’d meet every priest of Skyrim and they die? Danica was lucky enough not to die, but who knows what lengths Runil did go? And, now he was dead. It had been the Nord’s idea… and Ciel’nn felt it from the beginning it wasn’t a good idea, but he couldn’t say why. Maybe it was better not to pursue for the help and he’d find another way? The Dunmer looked to his friend. “I think this is a bad idea.”
Rangalen glanced at the Dunmer, who didn’t look good. During the two days of travel, he had noticed Ciel’nn becoming less talkative and more quiet. His eyes were darker and he had the look of a beaten mer. Is he giving up? The young warrior didn’t know how he could make his friend feel better. They’re against the forces of Oblivion, but there had to be something to do. “What do you mean, Ciel’nn? I think it’s good a thing to meet another priest, who—?”
“Another priest to die?” Ciel’nn cut off the young warrior. “I said I don’t feel good about going to the Temples asking help. They don’t worship the Deadras.” His tone was harsh as it lowered as it made him cough. A nasty reminder of how it all started. He wondered if he ever would reach adulthood before dying. The Dunmer felt exhausted when he thought all that had happened. “Those priests are serving the Aedra and we’re, or I am dealing with a Daedra.”
“Are you saying that Runil’s death is my fault? How I’m supposed to know what might happen?” Rangalen stopped in his place and Ciel’nn didn’t say anything, but his gaze was enough to let the Nord know what he was thinking. “By Gods! Ciel’nn, I’m trying to help you!” The Dunmer turned his gaze away from him. “What am I suppose to do?” Maybe he didn’t know enough of the Dunmer and their Daedras, but he still had to help, somehow! “Please, we would only talk to them, if you don’t want to be reached out. They worship Dibella, maybe they have answers.” He said the last word carefully.
Ciel’nn let out a scoff. “Fine, but I still think it’s a bad idea.”
The entrance of the stone city was busy with the soldiers preparing for the Civil War, and the hassle with Forsworn seemed to be the daily concern to the people of Markath. There were talk of Thalmor in the city, which made Ciel’nn on his guard as he pulled his hood on. How much he wished to be elsewhere - the stone city wasn’t the best place to be at the moment. Especially when there was the Thalmor.
Rangalen kept the Dunmer close to him as they walked through the streets and bumped onto a man, who glared at them. The young warrior assumed the man might be one from the Silver-Hand people that were watching the city. “Just a little more.” He whispered to Ciel’nn. “I can’t wait!” he heard the Dunmer hissing back at him as they climbed the stairs up to the Temple.
Priestesses Senna, Orla and Anwen looked worryingly at each other as the young warrior explained the situation and that he wanted them to help his friend. This was something to do with a Daedra. The Dunmer didn’t speak at all. He just looked elsewhere when they looked at him. They talked with Rangalen about the possibilities of reaching, but the danger was real. Strangely, he let out the part where Runil had died.
Priestess Orla was concerned as Ciel’nn was still young and yet it was visible to her that he had been through more than he can bear. Poor child. She walked over to him where he was sitting. Ciel’nn looked up to her with a torn gaze, and Orla had to hug him. “How can a priestess of Dibella help you, child?” she asked in a soothing tone.
Hugs were one thing that Ciel’nn had gotten to used to. It was comforting even from women. Yet he sighed, “I don’t think anyone can help me.” He paused for a moment. “Did he tell you Runil died at Falkreath? When he tried to help me.” The priestess gasped and stood up, looking to the young warrior. Apparently he didn’t. Where is this going? Ciel’nn brushed a stray hair aside and looked to Rangalen.
“I, …I thought, if I told you — you wouldn’t help us.” The young warrior defended himself. He shot a glance at the Dunmer, who glared back. “We’ll help only if he wants to. Personally I think it’s not a good idea, at all.” He heard Priestess Senna saying, and they all looked at Ciel’nn, who shook his head. “Damn it, Ciel’nn!” Rangalen almost shouted before storming out of the Temple.
“Dark elf…”
Ciel’nn looked up to see a small child in front of him as he was leaning against the table. The temple had gone quiet since the Nord had left the place. The child was Fjorta, the new sybil of Dibella, or so they had told him so. “What is it?” he asked being half sleepy. “Has he come back yet?”
Fjorta shook her head and placed her small hand on the mer’s. “Dibella says; She can’t interfere with the plans that are already in motion.” Her voice was strange and she looked to the Dunmer with a sympathetic look before trotting away.
What was that about? Plans in motion? Ciel’nn sighed as he got up. Where did the Nord go to? A part of him wanted to wander off while another part wanted to look for Rangalen. Going after the man wasn’t really ideal to him, but Ciel’nn headed to the doors.
“Ciel’nn, wait.” Priestess Anwen approached the Dunmer, with hopeful eyes. “I know, it’s risky to help you, but we thought it’s better that you seek help from our own kind. Maybe the Arch-Mage Savos Aren can offer more than us. Isn’t he a Dunmer like you?”
“I suppose that makes sense.” Ciel’nn replied and thought a moment. “I might visit the College, then. Thank you, Sera.” He left the Temple of Dibella. Savos Aren… Wasn’t the College at the snow area? I hate the cold…
Ciel’nn stepped out into the evening light and pulled on his hood. Where would he go? The whole city was made of stone; the beds at the Silver-Blood Inn wouldn’t be nice to sleep on. For a moment he had an idea to camp outside of the city, but before he’d need to decide if he’d go find the damned Nord. Damn him! To make me look around the city…
For a while Ciel’nn walked around for the Nord, but didn’t see him anywhere. The blacksmith workshop was still a busy looking place, but he walked there and asked if the Orc woman, Ghorza and the Imperial lad had seen the Nord boy. Frankly, Ghorza shook her head and continued lecturing the Imperial lad about smithing. Ciel’nn rubbed his forehead before he headed towards the city entrance.
Coming near to the Silver-Blood Inn, a familiar voice — a drunken voice echoed. “…do everything to help! But, he doesn’t want it and he’s like a brother to me, hic!” The man paused for a brief second. “The whole of Oblivion might be after us, and he wants no help, hic…”
By Azura! Is he drunk? He’s drinking because I didn’t want the priestesses help. Grow up, Nord! Ciel’nn pressed himself against the shadowy corner and brought his hand to his face. Stupid Nord. I’m not going to soothe him out of this one. I might be better out on my own. He listened to the voices, and he picked a certain voice that belonged to… A Thalmor!
“What’s going on here?” The Thalmor demanded to know. “Who is this man? A worshipper of Talos?”
“Don’t pay attention to the boy. He’s just having some friend problems.” Another man replied. “Don’t you have other problems to solve?”
“You, Thalmor ruin — hic— everything! With your stupid White-Shit-contract.” Rangalen’s voice mocking and full of hate. “Go home— hic— to your Mother!”
There was a gasp and whispering that quickly subdued. “How dare you! Do you know who I am?” The Thalmor snarled. “You’ll face the wrath of the Dominion!”
Ciel’nn had to close his mouth for he had it open when the Nord had spoke. He couldn’t believe it and there was only so much time to act before someone gets into trouble. His foot shifted…then his hand. The Thalmor wasn’t far away from him. Ciel’nn managed to sneak close enough to slash his dagger through the Thalmor’s robes. It was stupidly risky, but he didn’t have any other choice — or did he?
The Thalmor groaned and tried to turn around to see his stabber, but he fell on the ground like a rock, unmoving. Ciel’nn stepped over him and grabbed the young warrior’s hand. “We need to get out before he wakes up!”
“Master Ondolemar!” The two Thalmor soliders shouted in unison from the upper part of the city and rushed down the street. They had heard their master’s groan.
“Or, before they arrive down here. Let’s go!” Ciel’nn urged the Nord to move and had to drag him along towards the gates. The young warrior whined and sobbed about Ciel’nn not wanting his help and leaving him behind. Ciel’nn cursed under his breath. “We don’t have time for crying! We need to get out of the Reach!” he snapped.
Ciel’nn saw the carriage as they stumbled through the gates. They needed those in case the couple of n’wahs decided to chase them. The Nord tried to stay on his feet as stable as possible, but Rangalen slipped and fell on his face, almost pulling Ciel’nn on the dirt, too. “Get up! We need to leave on that carriage!” He hissed and tried to push the Nord up. “To the carriage!”
Getting to the carriage wasn’t easy. Rangalen stumbled on the cart more than once, and almost fell off when trying to get on it. The Dunmer’s curses kept flying past his ears and the young warrior couldn’t understand why he had to climb on the carriage. Finally he managed not to slip and relaxed after sitting down on the bench.
“Where do you—?” The carriage rider asked.
“To be border of the Reach and Falkreath!” Ciel’nn snapped before he nearly jumped on the cart. “Hurry!” He tossed the gold pouch to the rider, sitting down and glared at the Nord. “Let’s hope—” He was interrupted by the Thalmor soldier who pointed at them and shouted. “I’ll get them!”
Balancing with a bow on a moving cart was something Ciel’nn wasn’t used to. He aimed the poisoned arrow at the Thalmor Soldier who tried to reach them, but was left behind. He let the arrow fly and saw the mer screaming and falling down. He wouldn’t have more than ten seconds left. Ciel’nn began counting the time in his mind while he sat down.
Ten… Nine… Eight…
Back to ToC
Comments